Memento Mori
by Venomous Guise
Summary: Dumbledore has decided to force four of Hogwarts' greatest to live together for what he calls "safety reasons". What happens when secrets are revealed, alliances are made, and loyalties and friendships are tested? SSHG, HPDM. Warnings inside.
1. The Beginnings Of The Web

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**Warning One:** You will soon notice that this story is not canon. That obviously means the characters are going to be undoubtedly OOC at times, and that not everything in the books happens or has already happened in this story. Keeping that in mind, and also that this is in the Romance/Drama category (you can't take _everything_ seriously, now can you?), don't complain about the things I just mentioned. If you're looking for strict canon, I suggest you look elsewhere and not waste your time going any further.

**Warning Two: **In this story, the main characters take their own side and refuse to align themselves with either the "Light" or the "Dark". I will say upfront that there will be some Dumbledore bashing, and Ron will pretty much be a foul idiot, so if either of those offend you I suggest the same thing I did in the first warning: don't waste your time reading and getting upset.

Even though there is humor and lightheartedness in this story, it will also have its own touch of darkness.

**In other words, read at your own risk :)**

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010, this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

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Chapter One

**The Beginnings Of The Web  
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"W-what?" The amber-eyed girl blinked, obviously confused and fairly certain that her hearing ability had temporarily deserted her.

There was no way this was happening.

She stood with her mouth agape, wearing an expression not unlike that of someone who had just been stupefied. She was rarely dumbfounded like this, and when she was Hermione felt it was rather unbecoming. She realized this and snapped her mouth shut, but not before the dark-haired man sitting across from her had a chance to smirk.

"You heard me, Miss Granger," his oily voice said (though it was dripping with more contempt than grease).

He had kept the foolish girl after class under the pretext of assigning her detention, presumably for letting Mr. Weasley copy off of her Potions test in class. Even though both of the classroom's occupants knew that the bookworm had done no such thing, it hadn't stopped the professor from berating her (and therefore utterly humiliating her) in front of his classmates. In reality, he was under the dear old Headmaster's rather sudden orders (which Professor Snape thought were beyond ridiculous and completely unnecessary) to inform the unfortunate student that she would no longer be allowed to reside in her private quarters.

By the looks of it, the girl was not taking the news well... or at least comprehending it, as evidenced by the shock plastered all over her face.

The older man sighed and addressed the seventh-year Gryffindor again, beyond irritated that he needed to repeat himself but trying to keep his temper under control. It would not do to scare the girl off before he could complete his task. "You are to fetch Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. You will all pack your belongings. Then the three of you- together- will report to my office. Have I made myself clear?"

Hermione blinked, still dazed, and Snape cursed angrily under his breath. "I will _not_ allow you to force me to repeat myself yet another time," he spat. "It's not my fault you are incredibly thick-headed. Maybe that infernal hair of yours is getting in the way."

Hermione looked up at the pallid man, snapping out of her momentary lapse in thinking. "Professor Snape, this is absolutely ridiculous! Have you gone mad?" she demanded, absently reaching up to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "And I resent the comment you made about my hair, if you must know. I am not daft, and there is certainly nothing wrong with it."

"My apologies, Miss Granger," he sighed irritably. It was more than obvious that his tone was far from sincere, and it was rather disheartening. Everyone knew the great bat of the dungeons would never actually apologize to somebody.

Hermione bowed her head in shame as she felt the familiar pull of self-consciousness, and all of her previous anger seemed to vanish.

Seeing that his words failed to incense the poor girl any further, Snape tried a different approach. He was not going to let this silly girl get the best of him, especially when he had the opportunity to play with her emotions. "I must say, however," he began, smirking, "that I had expected an insufferable know-it-all such as yourself to have the basic ability to comprehend even the simplest of orders, but clearly," he paused for effect and continued, "I was mistaken."

Hermione looked up once again with a newfound fire in her eyes. She had known the professor had been taunting her just to get a reaction, but this was just too much. She was no idiot, and with the news she had just received, she was in no mood to simply sit there in silence any longer.

"I will not stand for this, Professor!" she shouted, her voice raising in volume with each word. "You can't just force me out of my rooms! Where am I supposed to go? I just _got_ here and haven't even had time to do anything wrong! Not that I would, of course," she added, eyes glittering with rage. "Unless you think you're- no you wouldn't _dare_ expel me, sir. I mean, I can understand getting rid of Malfoy because he's just a git, but Harry hasn't done anything wrong either. You can't just... _expel_ us!"

"Are you quite done?"

"You can't get away with this! I'll just go see what the Headmaster has to say about this. Wait until he hears what you've done now!"

"Miss Granger, I can assure you that I do not particularly enjoy keeping you here any more than you enjoy being here, but I never said I was expelling you, your bratty little hero friend, or young Mister Malfoy. You are simply being reassigned, you foolish girl, as are they. I would greatly appreciate it if you ceased running your mouth because frankly, I don't have the patience or the willpower to listen to your petty ramblings. I have more than graciously allowed you to speak without interrupting, but I will tolerate your nonsense no longer. Now, it is imperative that you cooperate so that-"

"Cooperate? COOPERATE? You expect me to-"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape said silkily, interrupting her yet again, "for your cheek. And ten more for interrupting a professor during an important discussion."

Hermione began to protest at this latest injustice, but she was soon silenced by an impatient hand wave. If she had been angry earlier, she was certainly furious now, and her usually dormant and restrained Gryffindor temper was getting the best of her. First, she was unjustly kept after class and threatened with a detention. Then she was personally affronted with, in her opinion, an inappropriate insult about both her hair and her intelligence. She was also led to believe, apparently incorrectly, that she was going to be expelled along with her best friend and another classmate. And now she was losing the private room she had just moved into, which she believed was well-earned.

Hermione, anger settling down to a simmer at the embarrassing deduction, looked down at her shoes as the professor continued. "If you must know," he drawled, "it was the Headmaster himself who asked for- or forced, rather- this to happen. I will give you the details of your new assignment when you return with your classmates so I don't have to repeat myself a third time."

Once again Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she bit back her angry retort upon receiving a murderous glare that left little room for argument. It took all of her self-restraint to remain silent, but she knew this man's temper, and if holding her tongue for now may give her a chance at fighting back later, she would take it.

"Very well," she said, gritting her teeth.

"If you are finally done being a pain, I do believe you have a task to complete. Now go, before I am forced to subtract even more points from your miserable House total."

"But-"

"Go!"

Severus Snape smirked in amusement as he watched the girl spin on her heel and practically bolt out of the classroom in fear.

_This year is sure going to be interesting_, he thought.

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**Coming up: **Hermione visits her soon-to-be former room and has an unexpected discussion.

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

**-=Nix=-**


	2. Loosening Up

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

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Chapter Two

**Loosening Up  
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Hermione stalked out of the Potions classroom, making sure to slam the heavy wooden door in the overgrown bat's face.

She was upset- no, beyond upset, and she felt that under these circumstances she was more than entitled to exhibit some immature and otherwise unacceptable behavior. She had just settled down in her cozy, not to mention private, Head Girl room and now she had to give them up and move in somewhere else. She didn't even know where, or who she would be living with!

She had finally had her freedom and the ability to do whatever she wanted without Ron breathing down her neck and now all her plans were ruined. She could live in a palace, for all she cared, but it just wouldn't be the same. Her privacy and freedom were very important to her, and she was loath to give them up.

This whole situation was baffling, infuriating, and unnerving all at the same time.

How dare Professor Snape lie to her to keep her after class, embarrass her completely, and then force her out of her quarters? For all she know, the git could have been lying the whole time! And then to make her go run his errands on top of it all? Why couldn't he have just summoned the three of them there himself? The nerve of people really astounded her sometimes.

And even if it what he told her was true, that these were Dumbledore's orders, she wondered why Snape of all people had to be the one to tell her. Certainly Professor Dumbledore could have found somebody less caustic to break the news...

"For once in my life, I could have had some comfort and freedom. But nooo, the greasy git just had to go and ruin everything, didn't he?" Hermione muttered to no one in particular, still having half a mind to throw a tantrum.

The usually reserved and pensive Hermione Granger stormed through the dungeons, earning her several bewildered stares from some of younger students in the process, until she reached the Head Boy's rooms, which were incidentally adjacent to her own. She frowned, remembering this small fact; the Head students' quarters were their _former_ rooms.

The frustrated brunette banged on the wall next to the portrait-hole furiously for a full two minutes until a very angry- and wet- Draco Malfoy finally came to the door, ignoring the protests of the portrait's snoozing resident. At least she was banging next to the blasted painting instead of right on its face, she figured.

"What do you want, Granger?" Draco asked, irritated that he was disturbed in this manner. He noticed the look on her face and decided this was probably something important, but he didn't let it show. The witch was clearly upset already, so why not have a little fun? Besides, it's not like her trivial personal matters were anything he could be bothered to care about.

"This had better be good. I was in the shower, you know," the blond said, gesturing to his dripping hair and the sodden towel thrown haphazardly around his slim waist. He paused, and then added as an afterthought, "And no, I wouldn't have let you join me, no matter how much you begged."

Hermione blushed and focused on the blond's face. This definitely counted as awkward, in her opinion. Incensed, she decided to continue her immature behavior and take Malfoy's bait, just as she had with Professor Snape; only this time, it was a little more personal.

"Why are you even taking a shower in the afternoon, Malfoy? Were you thinking about your boyfriend again? Or doing naughty things when you should have been in class?" she bit out with an air of sarcasm. "I didn't expect a high and mighty _Malfoy_ to stoop so low as to cut class- his godfather's class, no less- to have a romp with his _boyfriend_, especially if he's Head Boy. He should be setting an example, not off encouraging promiscuous behavior," she said as she tried to smile sweetly, though not really creating the desired effect. It was rather unsettling.

The girl would have definitely never had a chance in Slytherin.

"I wasn't- I mean, I don't have a-" The color drained from Malfoy's face and he sputtered unintelligibly as he tried to finish his sentence without making himself look bad. When he couldn't quite get it out, he turned away, embarrassed.

Hermione saw this and felt a pang of guilt stab her in the chest. He looked... vulnerable. And scared. This was _not_ the Draco Malfoy she was used to seeing, and she hadn't meant to be so cruel. Even though she had already been upset, she didn't have to take her frustration out on the poor boy, even if she couldn't stand his guts.

Now it was her turn to feel ashamed. She felt no better than the nasty Slytherin bullies that were constantly picking on her for no good reason, and she resented this.

"Malfoy..." the witch said softly, her motherly nature kicking in and her eyes gently softening in intensity. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Well, I kind of did, just not how you think..."

Draco remained silent, eyes suddenly glued to the floor. He hadn't meant for anyone, let alone Granger, see him like this.

"You can tell me, I won't judge you. I had only meant it as a joke, you know. I didn't... you know... I have friends who are... well... Gods, this is not coming out right..."

The Malfoy in question wanted to say something hurtful back to her, but he saw something in her eyes he had never actually seen directed at him before.

Concern.

Did the obnoxious Gryffindor Golden Girl actually care about him? She had called him by his given name, which was a first. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all... she seemed genuine enough. But maybe she just felt guilty after clearly hurting his feelings, a feat that is seldom, if ever, accomplished.

Draco tried to say something again, but he only made choking sounds that were a far cry from his usually frosty demeanor. Sighing in defeat, he nodded almost imperceptibly and braced himself for the inevitable repercussions of letting down his carefully constructed Malfoy mask. Even if it was only a momentary crack in the stone, he was sure that Granger would never let it go.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Draco! I'm so glad you could tell me! I won't tell anyone, I promise. Do you have a boyfriend yet? Do you-"

"Wait- WHAT?" Draco spluttered, apparently getting his voice- and his senses- back.

He was not prepared for this radical change from the now exuberant brunette. Where was the shy, studious girl he was used to teasing in the hallways?

"Granger, this doesn't mean anything. Not to you anyway. And you had better not tell anyone. If you do..."

Draco had tried to seem intimidating, but the effect was lost as his towel began to inch down his waist. Hermione blushed but pretended not to see what was happening, and Draco ignored it as well. "Why do you care, anyway? I thought we were supposed to hate each other!" he shouted, more out of embarrassment than actual anger.

"Honestly, I don't know why we all think we're supposed to do half of the things people expect of us," Hermione answered softly, "and I guess it's just easier to hate each other than try to get along with those that are different."

Draco hadn't expected that. He expected more screaming, more insults, and definitely a little more emotional distance.

He had answered the door in a flurry of anger, heavily intending to curse whoever was disturbing him to hell and back, and look where he was now. He had just been outed by a girl with whom he'd never even held an actual conversation, and now she was getting all philosophical on him. He felt like a bloody Hufflepuff...

Miserable, beyond ashamed, and without the slightest clue of what to say next.

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**Coming up:** Hermione takes the lead and attempts to salvage what's left of their conversation... and her terrible day

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

-=Nix=-


	3. Letting Go

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

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Chapter Three

**Letting Go  
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It was now or never for Hermione.

She knew she could either take advantage of the situation to get some petty satisfaction in taunting Malfoy, or she could take the high road and try to settle their differences now. You never know when you would need an ally, however unexpected it may be.

Making up her mind, she decided she would take the lead. Besides, it didn't look like the Slytherin was going to speak any time soon.

"Hermione," she said, proffering the metaphorical olive branch. She waited for the blond to respond, but he pretended not to notice... or care. It was hard to tell with him, really. "It's Hermione," she repeated, a little louder this time, while glaring at the boy in front of her. She was trying to fix this, and the least he could do was at least pay attention.

The blond simply stared. Why was the girl telling him her name? It's not like he didn't know it already, even if he only referred to her as Granger anymore. Maybe she fell and hit her head on the way here...

Hermione noticed that the sullen boy in front of her looked slightly confused, so she decided to make it easier for him and explain herself. "Now that I've found out your secret, and have agreed to keep it to myself, we might as well at least try to be civil, if not friendly."

Draco had half a mind to protest but nodded reluctantly after it was clear she wouldn't continue until he agreed.

Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself, and tried not to let her rattled nerves get the better of her. Malfoy was not likely to be pleased with what she was about to say next, but after the day she'd had so far she thought it fit to try to patch a few things up. Besides, she was on a roll and feeling more confident than ever after her less than vicious encounter with the younger Slytherin. It was a much needed change from the confrontation she'd had with Professor Snape after class.

"Now, I'm not sure if you're going to like this," she began nervously, "or at least find it tolerable or acceptable, but I really want to say this, so please hear me out."

After receiving no protest from her classmate, she gathered what was left of her courage and continued. "All of this petty fighting and teasing is just that. Petty. I know I don't really hate you. I hate some of the things you've said to me, and I know I hate how you've made me feel sometimes, but I don't actually hate _you_. And I'm fairly certain that deep down you don't hate me either, even though we may not necessarily like each other or have a good past. We're supposed to be adults and set examples for the other students, being Heads and all, and it would certainly make fulfilling our duties easier if we got along. I think it's high time we put everything behind us and move on from all of this nastiness, and I would really appreciate if we could find a way to come to some sort of truce and agree to try to be friends."

Here Hermione finally paused and took another deep breath, afraid of what Malfoy might say in response. He had already exceeded her expectations by even holding a conversation with her, let alone allowing her to give a small impromptu speech without hexing her or lobbing insults. She fingered the hem of her sleeve anxiously for a moment before speaking again, leaving their fates hanging by a single question.

"So, what do you say?"

After a couple minutes of intense silence in which Draco silently calculated his options in his head, he knew he wanted to accept this offer of friendship but he was also hesitant because of the circumstances and the suddenness in which it was forced upon him. What could the other Slytherins possibly think of him now? He wanted time to think, but he knew that it was now or never, and if he let this chance slip away from him now it was likely that the shy girl would never come near him again. Finally making up his mind, Draco acquiesced and nodded stiffly.

Hermione sighed and felt relief wash over her in waves.

"That sounds... acceptable. I guess you can call me Draco then. But only in private, you know," he added hastily. "It wouldn't do to let others know I went soft on some silly Gryffindor bookworm," he teased, visibly more relaxed now that he didn't need to worry about appearances.

He was loath to admit it, but it actually felt kind of good to let his hair down, so to speak. He could tell that the girl didn't have ulterior motives, nor was she trying to gain anything other than friendship with her offer. It might actually do him some good to have a caring and genuine friend on his side instead of the vain and fickle females of Slytherin that were forever trying to gain his companionship.

Hermione tentatively stepped forward to hug him, but Draco pushed her away with a little more force than was necessary.

"Hey, just a minute there Gra- Hermione. I didn't say we were best friends now or anything," he said, trying to keep the disgust off of his face.

Upon seeing her rather hurt expression, he immediately thought to apologize. He couldn't go on wrecking a friendship he had just barely agreed to start by continuing to act like the git she'd always thought he was.

"I didn't mean to push you," Draco amended, "but you have to understand that I'm not used to that kind of touchy-feely stuff. And I'm still trying to wrap my head around this whole friendship with a Gryffindor thing," he said, attempting to set her at ease with a smile.

It seemed to work, at least a little bit anyway, so he moved on to the real topic at hand. He was rather curious about how this whole situation that led to him befriending the bookworm had come about in the first place. "So why are you here anyway? It's not every day that a reckless little lioness tries to break down my door. If I hadn't known any better, I might have thought you were the Weaslette."

Draco chuckled as Hermione frowned.

The young witch was so wrapped up with patching things with Draco that she had forgotten the reason she was here in the first place, and her mood instantly became darker. She began to tell the rather shocked and confused boy what Snape had said to earlier, omitting the part about her hair. Apparently Draco wasn't very pleased with the news either and disappeared back into his rooms, deciding it was in his best interest to comply with his godfather's wishes.

After a promise to herself to be quick and efficient, Hermione darted into the room she had barely begun to inhabit. Not wanting to take her time gathering her things, she took all of thirty seconds to spell all of her belongings into neat stacks into her single trunk. She felt that the longer she spent in that room, the more she would miss it later. The fact that she had to leave was rather unfortunate, and she didn't want to get hung up on feelings of sadness and attachment.

After she pocketed her shrunken trunk, she took one last (and short) look at what should have been her home for the year and made her exit.

Draco emerged from his room several minutes later with a similar shrunken trunk under one arm and various other belongings, also shrunken, under the other. Thankfully, he had put some proper clothes on (a silver and charcoal striped sweater and black trousers) and spiked his hair with gel. It looked shorter and Hermione could have sworn she saw silver tips on the white-blond spikes.

The girl raised an eyebrow in suspicion and wondered if Draco had skipped class to experiment with his hair. It was so unlike him- he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were supposed to look and act proper- but Hermione thought it strangely suited him.

Draco merely shrugged, strangely at ease, and the two proceeded on their way to get the third member of their party.

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**Coming up:** A trip to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry learns of his best friend's new friendship

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	4. The Ghost Of Jealousy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

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Chapter Four

**The Ghost of Jealousy**

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When they finally arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione was relieved.

The pair had taken a longer route to Gryffindor Tower than they could have, but neither of them were in the mood to get stopped by other students. The first one they had run into had tried to make a disparaging remark about the fact that the two supposed enemies were walking together amiably, and Draco had been less than pleased. After that they had decided an alternate, more winding route would suit them best, even if it took them longer to get there.

They were both flustered enough with the day's events as it was.

Hermione went inside to get Harry while Draco waited outside the portrait hole, clearly uncomfortable with his location. What if someone saw him lingering around the Lion's Den? He couldn't even imagine what kind of explanation he would have to come up with if one of his fellow Snakes happened upon him here.

After fifteen minutes the pale boy became impatient. What could possibly be taking them so long? Judging by his usual attire, Draco assumed that Potter couldn't have _that_ many belongings to pack.

He began to pace around in irritation until he heard hushed voices approaching from the other side of the portrait-hole. Looking around him to see if the coast was clear, he leaned forward and pressed his ear against the wall near Fat Lady, ignoring her protests.

_"Really, Harry, it's not that bad,"_ Draco heard. _"We don't even know for sure what's going to happen. But just be nice to him; he's gone through a lot lately."_

_"But Hermione, it's Malfoy! You know, the arrogant little ferret who insults you and tries to make you miserable half the time? Skinny, unnaturally light hair, pale skin? Pointy nose?"_

Draco scoffed. His nose wasn't _that_ pointy... and besides, the Malfoys were well known and sought after for their angular features. There was a slight pause and Draco pressed himself to the portrait instead of the wall, ignoring more of the Fat Lady's irritated protests, as he strained to hear the conversation. He had already missed more of it and was curious about what was going on.

Why were they talking about him? He had a bad feeling about this...

_"He's not a vampire, Harry."_

"Ha!" Draco snorted. Potter had clearly gone mental._  
_

_"Well there's no other way to explain it! The 'Mione I know would never just up and become best friends with a Malfoy overnight."_

_"Honestly, we're not best friends. We have just come to a sort of... agreement. We both want to try and make this work. He didn't coerce me or suck my blood or put a spell on me. Why is it so hard for you to accept that maybe he's willing to change?"_

_"This is probably just another one of his plans to lure you to the Dark Lord!"_

_"Now that's just ridiculous. He's not evil. Why can't you just accept that people grow up? We're technically adults now, Harry. It's time we started acting like ones. And for all I know, Draco could prove to be a great ally for you when you least expect it."_

Draco felt a surge of pride as Hermione defended him. He was used to his housemates constantly putting each other down to make themselves look better, and here this girl was doing the opposite when she didn't even have anything to gain. They had only become civil toward each other less than an hour ago and she was already treating him like a good friend. To tell the truth, he was shocked. He smirked and made a mental note to thank the girl later... in private, of course._  
_

_"You know, 'Mione, I think he might be gay. Ever thought of that?"_

_"What of it? Don't you dare try to use that against him. That's just wrong and you know it."_

_"But just look at what he wears and how he walks. He wears something that smells like perfume, for Merlin's sake! And his hair! There's some other stuff, too, but..."_

_"You of all people should know that doesn't necessarily mean anything. And so what if he was? Would it really matter? Would it make him any less of a person?"_

_"I guess not..."_

_"Exactly. I accept him for who he is, just like I accepted you. And you can't tell me you think it's wrong, not when I see you drooling over half the guys in the school. Honestly! I don't even know why you brought it up all of a sudden."_

Was Potter gay too? Draco made a mental note of this, smirking, and continued eavesdropping. He could definitely use this to his advantage later...

_"I don't think it's wrong, and I never said it was! I would be a hypocrite if I said that. I guess I just overreacted. But you can't honestly tell me you haven't thought of it before."_

_"That's enough. It's really none of your business anyway."_

There was another lull in the conversation and Draco assumed Hermione was dismissing the matter and refocusing on the task at hand. He pressed his ear even harder to the portrait, hoping to hear Potter getting told off for taking too long._  
_

"Oof!"

The blond was knocked backward as the portrait hole reopened unexpectedly. He was now laying on the floor, rubbing his forehead delicately and cursing reckless Gryffindors. "A little warning would have been nice," Draco growled. He didn't realize at the time that he wouldn't have been knocked down at all had he not been eavesdropping so determinedly.

Hermione sighed and helped the pale boy up while Harry laughed, probably a bit too loudly to be genuine. Draco stood up, embarrassment tinging his features the slightest shade of pink, and brushed the dust off his clothes distastefully.

Harry stopped laughing and looked at the other boy curiously. Since when had he seen Draco act like this? He wasn't being arrogant or insulting the raven-haired boy, and it looked like he even had the decency to look properly ashamed. Things were definitely getting weird.

Both boys stared at each other intensely, a silent battle raging between them, until they finally nodded at the same time. It seemed like they had reached an agreement, whatever it was. While they weren't the best of friends yet, it was clear they had now reached a mutual understanding, at least for Hermione's sake. However, that didn't mean Harry couldn't feel the slightest bit jealous that he now had to share his best friend, and with a Malfoy at that.

The finally formed trio gathered all of their stuff (Draco and Hermione had set their belongings on the floor and Harry's was scattered throughout his many pockets) and started their now inevitable journey to Snape's office, talking freely and laughing the entire time.

. : . : . : .

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**Coming up:** The students begin to find out more of what's going on and why they have to move

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	5. That Which Was Woven

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

* * *

Chapter Five

**That Which Was Woven**

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"Enter!" an irritated voice barked.

Draco had been banging on the door of Professor Snape's office for less than a minute when it swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Draco practically flew into the office and sat himself down in one of the heavy wooden chairs.

"Uncle Sev, what's the meaning of all this? Her- er, Granger- said we were all going to move somewhere. Where are we going, and why? And why couldn't you have told me before? I'm your GODSON, in case you forgot. I don't want to get kicked out of my rooms!" Draco whined, sounding more like a spoilt child than the prim and proper Malfoy he was known to be.

"What is it with you children and speaking out of turn?" the professor asked, amused by Draco's behavior. He seemed to be in a better mood than when he had confronted Hermione earlier. "Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, do sit down."

Hermione and Harry took seats on the floor, seeing as Draco occupied the only chair other than the one behind Professor Snape's desk.

"I do believe, Draco, that I am about to tell you. There was no need to come barging into my office and demanded answers like a petulant child," the professor scolded gently. It was strange seeing him without his usually snarky persona, and it was certainly obvious that he did indeed care about his godson.

Draco muttered an apology and waited for the man to continue, eager to hear what this strange turn of events were all about.

"You see, our _dear_ Headmaster feels there are four people in this castle that are important to Hogwarts and the war, and he wishes to ensure their safety by forcing them to stick together in heavily warded quarters. I am inclined to believe that he simply wants to hole them up together and hide them in the middle of the castle, most likely to keep an eye on what they are doing at all times."

Harry and Hermione decided it was in their best interests not to interrupt, but Draco apparently had no such qualms.

"But what does that have to do with us?" he asked, completely missing what the other two students thought was painfully obvious.

Harry snorted.

"Those four people include, of course, you three," Snape practically hissed, gesturing to the students sitting in front of him, "and one of Hogwarts' professors. He has... _requested_ that you all move in together, along with said professor immediately."

"Oh..." Hermione sighed.

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "I was told that you all will get your own private bedroom while sharing three bathrooms and a common room connecting everything. You will only be allowed from these quarters for meals and classes, and you will not be allowed to simply roam the grounds any longer."

Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco pouted for a moment over the loss of his new rooms before realizing that he was still getting to live separately from the rest of the students anyway, and he smirked.

"When I pressed him for further details as to why he wanted this, he would only say that he had his reasons, and that telling would jeopardize his plans. It would seem that the Headmaster is up to something, and I don't entirely know what at the moment." The older man paused, thinking for a moment.

"What is certain, however, is that he wants to increase his control over the three of you and over myself."

Hermione frowned. Why would the headmaster want to control them? She looked up to the old wizard; he had always been kind and understanding to her and saw no reason not to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Upon seeing the girl's forehead knit up in thought, Professor Snape thought he had better explain.

"I believe he wants to continue to manipulate you, Mr. Potter, into being his brainless pawn as usual. He needs you to defeat the Dark Lord, and he wants it done on his own terms to control the exact outcome. It could also be very likely that he wants credit for your actions as well."

Harry nodded in agreement and Snape took this as his cue to continue, fixing his gaze upon the only female in the room.

"Miss Granger, you are incredibly intelligent, though I am loath to admit it, and one can't deny that you contribute greatly to the side of the Light, especially when it comes to helping your friend here. You have always been the little voice in Mr. Potter's head and the one who usually has to come up with ways to get him out of trouble. You are a very smart and talented witch, especially for your age."

Draco, a little put off that his godfather spoke to the two Gryffindors before himself, asked what the headmaster saw in him.

"Well Draco," Snape answered, rolling his eyes; it wasn't like Draco didn't already know this, but he figured he would humor the boy. "You are the son of Lucius Malfoy, a very prominent Death Eater, and therefore Dumbledore sees you as a threat. He wants to make sure you do not join the Dark Lord and he wants to recruit you for his own purposes. He is most likely trying to align the both of us with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, hoping that they will influence us to join his cause."

"But sir," Hermione began, puzzled, while she attempted to work things out in her head. "You said we were to move in with a professor... and you said he wanted to control us... and included yourself... so that must mean... oh dear..."

Hermione trailed off as she realized what exactly all of this meant. Her head began to spin and she started to feel dizzy. When Snape had originally told her the news, he had neglected to inform her that _he_ was who she had to move in with. Boy, was she really in for it now.

She would love living with Harry of course, and she was confident that she and Draco could work at living peacefully after their truce, but how on earth could anyone expect her to live with Snape and survive?

She was so shocked that she didn't even register that the usually snarky professor had actually complimented her, and said professor was not about to remind her either. It wasn't often that he complimented students (especially Gryffindors) and he wasn't about to go handing out some more.

"You seem to have gotten it now, Miss Granger," he said, amused by her obvious discomfort. "You are quite correct in your assumption that professor is indeed myself, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop gawking at me like I had sprouted another head."

Hermione looked like she was on the verge of tears while Draco looked indifferent by this latest bit of news. Harry, however, was not taking the information as well as his companions.

To tell the truth, he was simply fed up with all of this.

He sat in his heavy chair with his head in his hands, rocking back and forth and muttering to himself. He felt like he was on the edge of losing control and breaking down on the spot.

Snape barely arched an eyebrow as he contemplated Potter's reaction. He had certainly expected the boy to be upset, but now it looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Not that he cared, of course.

He was just curious about how this would all turn out.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** We find out why Harry is so upset

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	6. Butterflies and Hurricanes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

Also, _Butterflies and Hurricanes_ is the title of a song by Muse.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

**Warning: **There is cursing and/or coarse language in this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Six

**Butterflies and Hurricanes**

* * *

Professor Snape didn't need to wonder about Mr. Potter's reaction any longer, as Harry broke down and blew up in a fiery rage.

"That old fool! I am sick and tired of his bullshit!" Harry practically screamed, bubbling with formerly repressed rage. "He's been trying to control me since we first met. Everywhere I go he has someone watching me. Everything I do has to be approved by him. And he sends me back to the filth I am forced to call relatives every summer. He _knows_ what happens there! He's known since I first got my Hogwarts letter, since I..." Harry faltered and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing; he hadn't meant to steer the conversation and hoped the others ignored it.

"But Harry," Hermione intervened, hoping to defuse the situation before it got too out of hand, "what about the blood wards that were put in place there? I know that living there in the summer isn't exactly pleasant-"

Harry snorted; unpleasant was an understatement.

"Blood wards my arse!" he objected. "I know they don't work the way he says they do, otherwise I wouldn't keep getting-"

"What blood wards?" Draco interrupted, curious. He wasn't sure what the two Gryffindors were talking about, but if it got Potter this angry then it was bound to be interesting. He was about to inquire again, but he decided to leave the matter alone as his godfather mouthed a silent 'Later' in his direction.

Either way, Harry was actually grateful for the interruption since it prevented him from steering his words down the same avenue as before.

"Well, maybe they were weakened somehow," Hermione offered, trying to find a plausible explanation. She knew that sometimes her friend got worked up over an issue before knowing all of the facts. "But honestly, I'm not really sure what's going on with them." Hermione trailed off, embarrassed that she didn't have a good theory. "And we can always figure that out later," she added.

Professor Snape smirked, amused that the know-it-all didn't actually know something for once.

Hermione simply glared.

Harry didn't seem comforted by this lack of information either, and his anger strengthened. " I know I must be more powerful than he wants me to believe. I know what I am and I don't need him telling me who or what I'm supposed to be. He had all these great bloody expecations, but acts like I'm nothing! I don't know what his deal is, but for some reason I think he wants to keep me repressed. He lies to me, says he understands but he only does what's in my best interest, but he doesn't. We both know that, but he still insists on keeping me in the dark." He paused to take a breath; he didn't want to start hyperventilating by talking so fast.

"He always does seem to know what's best..." Hermione offered, shocked that her best friend was speaking badly of the headmaster. Sure, she had had her doubts about him before, but she was sure that the kind old man would never do anything that... malicious.

"For me? Or for himself?" Harry demanded. "I feel like I'm constantly being herded like a bloody sheep- always getting told where to go, what to do, and how to do it. And now I'm getting told I have to stay barricaded in some stupid room with you lot?"

The girl had no answer for this. Things just weren't making any sense...

"And d'you know what bothers me the most?"

Hermione shook her head no, and Harry looked around the office. The other two had been silent and had kept out of the discussion, and he had forgotten they were even there. This only seemed to infuriate him even more as he remember exactly _who_ he was going to be stuck with the rest of the year.

He scowled and continued his rant.

"He acts like he doesn't know what goes on over there and pretends it never did. I'm not that dumb to think it's all just in my head. Believe me, I thought that too in the beginning, but I know it's real." Harry paused, and his eyes narrowed.

Nobody dared breathe, let alone speak.

"And you know what? IT STILL FUCKING HAPPENS!" Harry screamed, his voice reaching a feverish pitch. "He _knows_, and he won't do anything about it unless it benefits him 'cause he DOESN'T FUCKING CARE! I HATE HIM!" Harry was openly crying now and the others were looking around awkwardly, shock and confusion written in their expressions.

Nobody save Hermione had the faintest idea what he was ranting about, and she looked down at the floor guiltily. The two Slytherins, who admittedly didn't know Harry very well, knew that this couldn't be like him. He always appeared so timid, so gentle.

Harry's breath was coming in bursts as he fought to keep his magic under control. He waited several moments before continuing, softly this time.

"Sometimes I think it was him that caused Voldemort to go bad," he admitted. "Like it was him who screwed things up... and honestly, it wouldn't really surprise me if now he was just trying to make up for it. Everyone thinks he's a bloody saint or something, but sometimes he can behave like Voldemort himself."

Professor Snape moved to finally interrupt the boy, wanting to claim that although Dumbledore was a manipulative old fool, he didn't go around torturing and killing people. Well, not that he knew of, anyway... maybe he would look into that later. If what Potter was saying is true, then the Headmaster's selfishness may extend farther than he had originally thought.

"He thinks he's pushing me towards the _Light_," Harry continued, spitting his last word as if it were pure and undiluted venom from Nagini herself. The anger that previously laced his voice was edging its way back into his words, but he didn't notice. "But now I'm not so sure. I mean, I don't believe in Voldemort's ideals, but I sure as Hell don't believe in Dumbledore's either. All this bloody talk about reforming the ministry... he's just creating an empire for himself, I swear. There is no real "Light" and "Dark" anyway... why can't we all just think for ourselves?"

"Harry," Hermione ventured hesitantly, not wanting to set her friend off again, "if what you're saying is true, it might explain a lot of things in time. But for now I think we really need to get back to the matter at hand: this whole business with moving. I think everyone needs some time to settle, and it would do you some good to cool down."

Harry began to calm down, mostly from the shock that was beginning to settle in, and just blinked at her stupidly.

Hermione looked lost as she witnessed the sudden change in her friend's demeanor.

The Boy Who Lived buried his face in his hands, embarrassed. This couldn't be happening. He cursed and tried even harder to blink back the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Why did he just go off and say all of that? Now everyone was going to think he was weak or some stupid crap like that. Or worse, a bloody poof. Everything always had to happen to him...

"Harry..." Hermione echoed. Harry hadn't noticed she was speaking to him. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Oh... right... sorry, stupid question, I know. I'm sorry for everything that happened. I didn't know you were hurting that much, and I still don't know all the details, but I'm here for you, okay?"

The raven-haired boy nodded. "Sorry... I just... I can't... he knows..."

"Shh, it's okay." she soothed, walking over to Harry and cast a quick drying charm on the boy's tearstreaked face.

"No it's not!" he lashed out suddenly. "I don't want to talk about it! I don't need this. I don't need you. Any of you. Just...leave me alone!" Harry choked. He shot up from his chair quickly and fled the room.

"Well, that was certainly... different," Draco offered. "I certainly didn't expect Potter to go off the deep end like that."

"Indeed," his godfather agreed.

No other words were spoken for a good five minutes, until Hermione quietly suggested that they get settled into their new rooms, unsure of what else to say. The office's three remaining occupants were silent after that failed attempt at small talk, each hoping that this was all some sick and cruel joke.

No one moved to get up from his or her seat, and they all sat there in uncomfortable silence while they waited for Harry to come back.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** Harry visits the Headmaster

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	7. In The Spider's Lair

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

* * *

Chapter Seven

**In The Spider's Lair**

* * *

Six excruciatingly long hours had passed since Harry's flight from Snape's office, and no one had seen him since.

No one, that is, but Albus Dumbledore.

Almost as soon as Harry had run off, he had found himself in the Headmaster's office, still tired and emotionally drained. He didn't remember how he had gotten there, probably because he had been so wrapped up in his emotions that he had temporarily lost his senses.

It was probably because he was so used to going to the headmaster for help that his feet brought him there automatically.

Regardless, Harry had eventually calmed down and accepted his predicament for what it was. He had even realized that the new arrangements could be used to his advantage. It was time for Harry to play by his own rules (in secret, of course), and he was not going to allow other people to control his life anymore. It was time to take control of his own fate.

After offering the ebony-haired boy a customary lemon drop for the fourteenth time that day, Dumbledore had attempted to explain the situation, leaving out all the details and important parts, of course.

Harry wasn't blind or dumb; he could see where the headmaster could think he was doing the right thing, even if it was completely twisted. He didn't like it, but at least he could see the thought process there. It would certainly make his life easier if he could predict Dumbledore's actions.

Harry nervously fingered the hem of his sleeve as he waited for the old man to speak. He had decided he was going to play innocent, hoping to see first hand the lies that were sure to spring forth from the headmaster's mouth. If he didn't hear it himself, it would be harder to come to terms with.

"So what brings you here, dear boy?" Dumbledore finally asked him.

Harry remained silent.

"Are you nervous about the coming war?"

Harry nodded; it actually wasn't too far from the truth, so he didn't feel bad leading the headmaster on. Not that he should, after all he's been through, but he liked to believe he could be the better person and didn't want to do any more damage than he felt he had to.

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll be ready in time." Dumbledore assured him. "I have faith in you-"

Here Harry tried his best to stifle a snort, but ended up coughing instead.

The headmaster seemed not to notice "-that in the end, you will succeed. That is where I come in. I will be here to help you along the way should any difficulties arise. You are in good hands, my boy."

There was that word again.

_Boy_.

Harry frowned; he hated when anyone, but especially Dumbledore, called him that.

He was hurt and frustrated by everything that was happening, not to mention royally pissed off, but to Professor Dumbledore he seemed indifferent. For once in his life, Harry was glad he had paid attention to Draco Malfoy; by studying the blond intensely, he was now able to erect a carefully constructed mask similar to that of the Prince of Slytherin himself with a practiced ease. He made a mental note to thank the blond later and went back to ignoring the ancient professor and fidgeting with his sleeve.

Under his invisibility cloak (Harry had made it a habit to keep it on his person at all times now), he had heard the students' whispers on the way here. It seemed that the entire school was buzzing with news of his "disappearance".

The most popular rumour that was floating around was that he had gotten captured by Death Eaters and was being held captive for Voldemort. Others claimed that Harry had gotten a sex change and had gone into hiding, afraid of being teased. Some even said that he had contracted a rare and incurable illness and that he was hiding in Switzerland waiting to be eaten by a troll.

This was just ridiculous; he really hadn't been gone that long, and even if he had been, it wasn't everyone else's business anyway. Besides, it's not like he even _went_ anywhere in the first place. Couldn't they understand he had only needed some time alone? Obviously Dumbledore couldn't... the meddling old headmaster was still droning on and on about how he had Harry's best interests in mind and that he needed to be protected from any harm until he could defeat the Dark Lord.

"After all, it wouldn't do to waste all of this hard work and training just to be killed before you can fulfill your purpose." Harry heard, finally tuning back into the conversation.

That was it; Harry didn't want to hear any more. He didn't want to risk getting angry and exploding again, which would completely destroy the act he was about to put on for the headmaster's sake. Wanting to put an end to this ridiculous charade and get on with his life, Harry sighed and pretended to accept his forced compliance. If Dumbledore thought he could keep fooling Harry with these rather pathetic attempts at secrecy, then he would just go along with it for now.

_This is really too easy__,_ Harry thought. _All I have to do is act like I'm completely oblivious and naïve and the old fool thinks he has complete control over me_. He snorted; as long as the headmaster thought he was clueless he was safe. He could go about his business right under Dumbledore's nose without the meddling coot being any the wiser.

He would rather enjoy seeing the reaction he would get when he pulled the rug right from under the headmaster's feet.

"Oh, Professor!" Harry gasped dramatically, appearing to have cracked under the Headmaster's penetrating gaze. "I'm _really_ sorry for my behavior today. I was just surprised that you would take the time out of your busy schedule to look out for my safety and the safety of others. I understand now that you were only trying to protect me. I don't deserve your kindness, and I'm sorry I have been too upset to properly pay attention to the advice you have been so graciously providing me."

"Dear boy, it is quite all right. I am sure you have been under quite a lot of pressure lately and I merely wanted to make it easier for you and your friends," the old man said, trying to soothe the distraught Gryffindor.

It was really quite pathetic that he would fall for Harry's theatrics. If he _really_ knew the boy at all he would have been able to see straight through his act.

Harry snorted, disguising it as he pretended to blow his nose with a hastily conjured tissue. Since when had Snape been one of his friends? The old man really was losing his touch, especially if he was buying into Harry's ridiculous theatrics.

Harry's emerald eyes were shining as he sniffed dejectedly and brushed an imaginary tear from his cheek for good measure. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione about this pathetic conversation later. It was all he could do to keep from laughing; how could the old professor actually _believe_ him?

"Harry, why don't you head back to your new quarters and get freshened up? I do believe dinner will be starting shortly, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to head down there looking like this," Dumbledore persuaded gently. He didn't want everyone thinking the Boy Who Lived was anything less than a shining hero. What would the students think if they saw their savior this upset? It would crush the morale of the entire school. No, Harry had to keep up appearances, and he would make sure of it.

"Yes, that woud be nice," Harry conceded, trying not to let his lips curl into a smile. He was amused the headmaster actually thought he was crying in front of him.

"I hope you feel you can come to me if anything of consequence comes up."

"I will, Headmaster."

"Good day."

With that, the ancient wizard swept from the room, leaving a chuckling Gryffindor boy in his wake.

When he was done laughing at the old man and at his own ridiculous behavior, Harry rose from his seat and slowly stretched. He had gotten quite sore after sitting in that hideous and uncomfortable chair that Dumbledore insisted on keeping in his office.

He winked at Fawkes (who stared at him blankly) and exited the office, practically skipping down the spiral staircase.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** Harry finally gets found (by someone other than the Headmaster, of course)

Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	8. Cold Fame

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

* * *

Chapter Eight

**Cold Fame**

* * *

With his stomach rumbling, Harry checked his watch and made his way down to the kitchens. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning, and that was several hours ago.

He figured that dinner in the Great Hall was probably over by now, and he didn't really want people staring at him anyway. And if they weren't staring at him, they would be badgering him for news of where he had been, especially Ron. The youngest male Weasley was a bit of a nuisance sometimes, and rather thick, too.

Harry made his way down to the kitchens under his invisibility cloak once again. He tickled the portrait and went inside, only to have the breath knocked out of him as it swung open. Apparently a human (and very female) projectile had launched herself at him and was currently crushing his ribs in a fierce hug. Harry pulled away and massaged his side as his best friend attempted to regain her composure.

"Harry!" Hermione's frantic voice shouted shrilly.

He grimaced at the grating sound and rubbed his ears, quite certain that they may very well be bleeding. Where had Hermione gotten _that_ voice from?

Her eyes were rimmed in red and her hair had started frizzing up, standing on end in a giant tangled mass. It was clear she had been worrying to death about something, and it showed. To be honest, she looked terrible, a far cry from the usually bright-eyed and reserved witch Harry knew and loved.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, hands placed firmly on her hips. "We've been looking all over for you, but no one could find you, not even Dobby! Oh, he's probably still looking for you now that I think about it," she added. "I'm so glad you're okay Harry I was so worried and so was Draco and maybe even Snape and I-"

"Hermione, breathe!" Harry interrupted; the girl was slurring her words erratically. "What has gotten into you lately? You're so... hyper. And I'm fine, okay? You shouldn't worry about me. It was just... I had a lot to deal with in my head at the time."

Noticing her discomfort, Harry apologized. "Look, I'm sorry I blew up. I didn't mean for my emotions to get so out of control. I guess I was just overwhelmed."

"Erm... okay, if you say so..." the girl conceded. She didn't want to stress Harry out any further in fear of pushing him toward the edge again. "I'm sorry too, I have just been worried about you. You never know what could happen if you ran off like that for real."

"I know. And as for where I was, well... let's just say a certain _professor_ found it necessary to keep me in his office and talk me to death," he answered. "He kept going on and on about his reasons for forcing us to live together, and quite frankly I didn't pay attention to most of what he said since I was still upset. But he finally let me go after I pretended to accept everything he was saying. It was ridiculous, really. I even had to fake crying and he fell for it!"

Hermione frowned, not wanting to believe that the headmaster really was up to something. He had never given her a reason to distrust him, and he always seemed to help out whenever it was needed. But Harry was her best friend, and she knew she had to trust him. She decided to hear him out, for his sake, and because that's what best friends do.

"So what all did he say?" she asked.

"He told me that some of the Order members were in danger of being attacked or something like that, and that he wanted to keep an eye on us." Harry summarized, snorting. He knew that the old bag didn't care for anyone else's safety exept the safety of his own manipulative arse. "I mean, I know my place in this war. I know what I'm supposed to do, and I'm working on how, and I don't need him to cage me up. I don't need him to shelter me- how else am I going to get the exposure and experience I need before even thinking of taking on Voldemort? It's not like I even have anything to lose anyway..." he sighed, eyes dropping sadly to the floor.

"Harry..." Hermione warned softly.

"Sorry. It's just... well, he's just trying to control us even more than he already does, which really doesn't surprise me. Apparently our rooms are going to be heavily warded and that he will always have someone watching us at all times. I won't be allowed to go anywhere or do anything or even study in the library! He said he was only looking out for our safety, which is a complete load of bollocks-"

"Language, Harry!" Hermione scolded.

"Er, right. So anyway, like I said I put on some ridiculous show and the old fool believed me and let me go. He also told me where we were going to be living now. Somewhere near the dungeons, I think he said."

"Yeah, I know. The three of us waited around for you to come back, but after a couple of hours we didn't really have a choice," Hermione said, almost guiltily. She groaned; she had not been thrilled when she had found this out.

"It's ok. I know you couldn't wait around for me forever."

"Oh," Hermione sighed, still feeling guilty that she had left her friend out of everything, even though he had disappeared. "Well, you must be hungry. Shall we get something while we're both here? We can take it back to our new rooms and share it with Draco and Professor Snape."

Upon hearing the mention of food, a multitude of house elves rushed to the pair, bowing and asking to help. Hermione frowned, but Harry gratefully told the eager elves what he wanted. In less than a minute, the two Gryffindor students were holding so much food in their arms that they staggered as they walked out of the kitchens.

"You know, 'Mione, I still don't see why you wanted to bring food for us _and_ the snarky Slytherins. Didn't they eat in the Great Hall already?"

"No, we all skipped dinner and took the time to settle into our rooms. Draco and Professor Snape never came out of theirs so I decided to go look for you myself," Hermione answered. "That's why I was in the kitchens; I figured sooner or later you would wander down looking for something to eat. It's not good being that upset on an empty stomach."

"Yeah, I guess so. You always were the one looking out for me, 'Mione," Harry agreed, grinning. "I guess I didn't expect any less."

Hermione smiled, glad that their friendship was back to normal for the time being.

"Oh yeah!" Harry gasped suddently. "Why didn't we just shrink the food?"

Harry and Hermione had been walking (or stumbling, rather) for a full five minutes before he had come to this conclusion and remembered to shrink the food that was threatening to topple out of their arms. Feeling foolish, his companion did so and muttered incoherently about exams and NEWTS.

Harry only sighed. The school year had barely begun and, as usual, Hermione was already stressing over exams. She really was too predictable sometimes...

"Brightest witch of our age, huh?" he teased.

Feeling decidedly better now that their burden was reduced, the two friends continued on their way, hoping that everything else around them would become better in time.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** Draco makes a confession and drags Harry down with him

Thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	9. The First Night

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As of 29 October 2010 this chapter has been rewritten and reposted.

**ATTENTION: **After a few years of not really using this account, I have decided to revive this story and take it off of hiatus. Over the last few weeks I have worked on a complete overhaul of this story, gutting and rewriting all of the 8 chapters that had been previously posted. After four years of it sitting stagnant, it really needed some work. I felt that leaving it here to rot without fixing it did it a real injustice, and now I intend to see it through to the end. I can't guarantee how long it will take to finish, but now at least it's back on track.

If you had read all of the previous chapters before I made these changes, you will notice that a lot of things have changed. I split up almost all of the previous chapters and fleshed them out. I also slowed down and tweaked the plot a little since I thought things were moving way too fast. This new chapter 9 is actually the old chapter 4, so in essence I added 5 new chapters to this story. Over the next several chapters you will undoubtedly see reworked versions of the four remaining old ones, but everything after that will be completely new.

To my old readers, thank you for sticking with me over the years and giving this another chance. To my new readers, thank you for picking this up.

And now on to the story...

* * *

Chapter Nine

**The First Night**

* * *

The common room's four occupants were eating almost noiselessly, not bothering to engage each other in small talk. After all, this was the first real time they had spent together as roommates, and the gravity of their situation was taking its toll. The air in the room was dripping with tension, yet it was strangely calm. Everybody was lost in his or her own thoughts, neglecting to speak, and therefore none of them was upsetting another. It was just what they needed, but at the same time it was also necessary to finally break the tension.

It stayed this way until a certain blond abruptly shattered the silence with a blunt and flat-toned statement.

"I'm gay."

Harry and Snape choked on their food simultaneously. The former stared blankly and resumed picking at his food while the latter tried to regain his composure, unused to such appalling displays.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked disinterested and acted like nothing had happened. This was no news to her, and she was secretly pleased that Draco was putting himself out there like this. If nothing else, it would break the ice and maybe the others would open up to one another.

"Pardon me, Draco?" Snape asked, not as smoothly as he had intended to sound. His throat was still a little tight after his brief choking episode.

"Well, I just figured you all should know, considering the fact that you'll have to live with me for the rest of this abysmal school year," Draco elaborated, his voice still even and unwavering.

"Does your father know about this?" the professor asked his godson, curious.

Draco merely shrugged. "If he hasn't figured it out by now, I'm sure he'll figure it out eventually."

"But why are you doing this now?"

"I guess it's only fair for everyone to know upfront, and it saves me the trouble of explaining things later."

Nobody could argue with this, and Hermione decided to take a chance.

"While we're speaking of being fair..." she prompted rather loudly, staring pointedly at Harry.

Harry acted as though he didn't hear her, but he picked at his half-eaten food with a newfound enthusiasm, rather resembling how Ron ate (minus shoveling the food in his mouth). The two Slytherins picked up on this exchange and they, too, stared at him. The raven-haired boy started stabbing at a piece of chicken furiously when he realized that he wasn't exactly being subtle about the fact that he was clearly avoiding the subject.

"Harry, don't you have something you'd like to share?" Hermione hinted, sounding more like a parent or teacher than a best friend. She nudged Harry under the table and inclined her head toward Draco with a very pronounced cough.

(Silence)

"_Tell_ them!" Hermione mouthed furiously. Harry still ignored her, eliciting an agitated sigh from the only female in the room.

(More silence)

Hermione made several violent and obvious gestures toward Harry, who still acted as though he didn't know what was going on.

Even Professor Snape could realized that Potter was not _this_ daft.

(Even more silence)

A fork clattered on a plate, ringing loudly and grating on everyone's ears.

"Oh, this is absolutely ridiculous! They deserve to know, Harry, and you know it. Besides, knowing you they would find out anyway." The brunette paused and looked around the room. "Since Harry's clearly not going to say anything relevant anytime soon, I think I'll just go ahead and tell you that he's-"

"NO!" Harry interjected suddenly, earning him three strange looks from the others seated at the small table with him. "Er, I mean..."

"What he MEANS is that he is also gay." Hermione finished, not bothering to allow Harry any time to think of a lame excuse.

Harry glared and muttered under his breath, viciously impaling another piece of chicken and shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth. Although he secretly agreed with Hermione, he was mad that she just outed him like that, and without warning. After all, it wouldn't do to have secrets like that if they were all going to get along. He made a silent vow to get even with her later and gave up trying to be angry.

Harry stole a glance at Draco and noticed that the blond looked unbearably smug. Hoping to ruffle the other boy's feathers and knock him off his high horse, Harry winked at him.

To Harry's surprise, Draco only smirked and nodded to a door on the far side of the room, presumably one of the bedrooms.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked, patting him on the back. Apparently Harry had choked on his pumpkin juice again. No one but Draco and Harry had seen what had just happened, so the other two were baffled.

"Yeah... erm... just went down wrong, that's all," Harry explained lamely, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.

Draco's trademark smirk only grew bigger. "Real eloquent, Pott- er, Harry, I guess it is now."

"Same to you, Ferret Boy." Harry countered. "And just so you know... just because we both like blokes, it doesn't mean I would ever be interested in _you_. So don't even think about it."

Draco's smirk faltered for a moment and both boys grinned. They took turns sending mock hateful glares at each other and wiggling their eyebrows suggestively until an impatient cough interrupted them.

Harry and Draco turned in the direction of the offensive noise and met the steely gaze of the Potions master.

"As _overjoyed_ as I am that the two of you are finally getting along, I must ask that you continue you childish games elsewhere," Snape said curtly, finally rejoining the strange conversation. "Also, I wish to further explain the conditions of this new arrangement that was imposed upon us by our dear old Headmaster.

"First of all, Mr. Potter, and Draco, there will be no more quidditch for either of you. Yes, I said no quidditch. That means you will not be allowed to play in matches or practice, with the House teams or otherwise. Secondly, Miss Granger, you are no longer Head Girl. As of this morning, Pansy Parkinson—"

Snape was rudely interrupted, and he did not appreciate it in the least.

"Pansy Parkinson? PANSY PARKINSON?" Hermione shrieked. "That little—"

"Miss Granger!"

"—has the mental capacity of... of... I don't know, but she has absolutely _no_ brains whatsoever! A decapitated slug would be better qualified for the position!" Hermione fumed, ignoring her professor. "I can't believe the senile old—"

"Miss Granger, I—"

"—did this! I have waited six years to be Head Girl, and now that I finally am he yanks it right out from under my feet! Term has barely even started yet! I'll have you know tha—"

"MISS GRANGER!" Snape's harsh voice boomed, effectively silencing the brunette mid-sentence. He paused a few seconds, reveling in the fact that he could scare a student into submission at will, and spoke again.

"I agree with you, Miss Granger, although I am less than pleased with these hot-headed Gryffindor outbursts. For now all we can do is appear to be following the Headmaster's requests, however ridiculous and unappreciated they may be, and lay low for a while. I suggest—"

"I don't care what you suggest!" Hermione screamed, on the verge of tears. "You don't understand!"

"Well, answer me this then. How can you possibly expect to remain Head Girl if you're not even allowed out of these quarters except when absolutely necessary?"

"I... I-" Hermione floundered, beginning to see reason. "I guess I can't..."

"Exactly. Now, I think we've all had enough for one day," Professor Snape stated, and the three students nodded. "I think it is high time we all retired. We can further discuss things in the morning. I bid you all goodnight."

With a flurry of black robes, the professor disappeared into his bedroom and the others soon followed suit.

It had truly been a trying day, and none of them were looking forward to seeing what tomorrow would bring.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** Someone is in the castle who shouldn't be there...

Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


	10. Panic and Circumstance

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

**A/N:** As you may have seen in the previous chapter, this whole story got reworked and republished in October 2010, and it's now September 2012. My intention then was not only to rewrite the existing chapters, but to write and post new chapters as well. Since then, life has gotten in the way and I had to put writing on the backburner yet again. Again, I can't promise when this story will be over, but I'm going to start working on it again.

To my old readers, thank you for sticking with me over the years and giving this another chance. To my new readers, thank you for picking this up.

* * *

Chapter Ten

**Panic and Circumstance**

* * *

Harry poked at his cooling food halfheartedly. The clamor in the Great Hall was only a faint buzzing in his ears and his usually vibrant eyes were dull and glazed. Every few seconds or so, his head would bob up and down as he fought to stay awake. Harry was exhausted; he had stayed up all night with Draco, and the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll.

Whatever had possessed him to stay up so late was beyond Harry. His mind was fuzzy and his memory was a blur of seemingly random images and colors. His head was pounding violently and his eyes screamed to be shut.

Harry was partially brought out of his stupor by the weight of a hand on his shoulder. Harry ignored it- he was too tired to talk this morning.

The hand started gently shaking his shoulder, but Harry didn't care. He was exhausted, and it probably wasn't important anyway.

The shaking became more insistent and Harry slowly rotated his head a few degrees, acknowledging the hand's presence, but the shaking didn't stop. He was getting annoyed, but he didn't feel like doing anything about it. He just didn't care.

Harry's shoulder was being shaken rather forcefully now, and he could feel his aching muscles strain as they fought to remain tense. He turned his head around completely and saw the person who was disturbing him.

It was Ron. Harry muttered unintelligibly under his breath and shook his shoulder free, ignoring the redhead.

Harry could see that Ron was offended, but he didn't care. Ron probably just wanted to talk about quidditch anyway. Harry mentally shrugged (he didn't want to waste his remaining energy, as stupid as that sounds) and gathered his belongings, preparing to leave.

Draco, on the other hand, seemed more like his usual self. He and Pansy were chatting casually while Blaise was once again scanning the Great Hall for potential "victims", as he liked to call them. Blaise chuckled softly as he locked eyes with a Ravenclaw seventh year. The two nodded discreetly and slipped out of breakfast. Draco noticed this silent exchange and arched an aristocratic eyebrow. Blaise was just _too_ predictable.

Yet again, Draco spared a glance at his roomate. Not that the Gryffindor boy noticed. Draco's constant staring could be described as borderline obsessive lately, but Harry was oblivious, as usual. And it looked like he had a horrible hangover. Draco snorted in spite of himself- apparently Harry had forgotten to take the hangover potion Draco had left out for him.

'_Typical Harry_,' Draco thought, '_always forgetting things_..._wait_... _hangover potion? Why the hell would he_..._SHIT!_'

Draco panicked; he had almost forgotten the conversation he had had with Harry last night. And what was worse- he could barely remember it! He hoped that he hadn't said something too personal (here Draco shuddered) or revealed too much.

Draco mentally smacked himself on the forehead, not wanting others to notice his distress. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, you know.

The blond cursed and reluctantly turned his attention to Pansy, who was currently ranting on about some rude person she met in Diagon Alley over the summer. Draco rolled his eyes and went back to eating his now cold sausage, trying not to attract attention to himself. He did _not_ want Harry to see him in a panic, lest the younger boy remember what had happened and cause a scene.

It didn't take long after that for Draco's eyes to settle on the Gryffindor table again. As he watched the raven-haired boy sitting there, his heart raced even more than it already was. Harry had been on his mind a lot lately, and he wondered why. Was it because of their situation? Was it because of their newfound, although hesitant, friendship? Was it last night?

Now that he thought about it rationally, Draco figured it couldn't have been their conversation. He was careful and didn't reveal a lot about himself, so there was no reason to worry. It was just a conversation, he reasoned. Nothing to be worried about.

But what if it was? As his brain struggled to remember what happened last night, Draco once again realized that the details were fuzzy. He had to have a talk with Harry. And soon.

Draco looked toward the Gryffindor table and realized that Harry was gone. Draco cursed and stomped out of the Great Hall. Since when did he not pay attention to what was happening around him?. He had spent so much time musing that he hadn't noticed the raven-haired youth quietly slip out of breakfast.

As Draco sprinted down the corridors looking for Harry, he heard a snatch of an odd conversation drifting out of a seemingly empty classroom. The blond, ever curious, slowed his pace and crept to the slightly ajar door.

The sight that met his eyes would be burned into his mind forever.

His father... _his father_... was having a "conversation" with none other than the Headmaster himself. The last time Draco had seen the older blond, Lucius had been locked up in a cell in Azkaban. And to his knowledge, the elder Malfoy was supposed to be there right now. How had he gotten out?

Head reeling, Draco extended his head farther around the corner, just enough to get a clearer view of what was going on.

"Now, now, now, Albus," Lucius was purring with a smirk on his face. "Have you forgottten our little agreement so soon?"

"Of course not, Lucius." Dumbledore said softly. His eyes weren't twinkling; actually, they seemed rather dull. It was quite disconcerting.

"Excellent. How is the boy?"

"Which one? Potter? Or your son?"

"Both, old man!" Lucius snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin. "I don't have all day, so get on with it."

"Oh, I believe you do. Have you forgotten where you're supposed to be right now? And let's not forget who got you out of there in the first place. You have all the time in the world."

Lucius was silent, his mouth a firm line etched in his pale face. The Headmaster, sensing no further argument to that matter, continued.

"The Potter boy is being taken care of as we speak. As for your son, we have not detained him yet. It seems as though he is not in his room. Rest assured, though, we are looking into that matter right now. Both boys will have the Dark Mark within the week, no doubt about it. And have you kept up _your_ part of the deal?"

"I already told you," Lucius spat. "You will receive the item as soon as both brats are delivered- together- to the Dark Lord, and no sooner."

"Excellent. We shall speak again soon."

"Oh, and Albus?"

"Yes, Lucius?"

"One more thing... _never_ insult a Death Eater..."

Draco, sensing that the so-called meeting was ending, moved to get out of the way and out of sight. As he was turning around, however, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Draco turned back to the classroom and gasped at what he saw.

"_Crucio_!" Lucius was saying, over and over again. "_Crucio_!"

The once proud Headmaster was writhing on the floor in agony and reaching out to the ceiling. To his credit, though, Dumbledore was keeping silent throughout the humiliating and intense torture. Draco knew only too well how it felt, and for a moment his heart went out to the old man. The poor wizard probably couldn't take much more...

Draco stumbled back in horror, his hand clasped over his mouth, and ran away from the classroom as fast as he could. He knew his father was a bastard, but the look on the man's face could only be described as demented. He was actually _enjoying_ it. Draco felt sick to his stomach, and the running he was doing wasn't helping.

As Draco staggered through the corridors, his mind was racing. How could his father refer to him and Harry as if they were only property? What was the deal he had made with Dumbledore? How the hell did he get out of Azkaban and what was he doing in Hogwarts? Why were he and Harry even involved?

Draco had the sneaking suspicion that something horrible was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.

Draco drifted in and out of consciousness as he fought the urge to empty his stomach's contents right there in the corridor. He had to keep going at all costs.

'_Everything was going so well_... _how could something like this happen_?' Draco thought.

'_I have to warn Harry_... _if only it's not too late_...'

He knew, though, that it was too late to help Harry. And the hand that suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind confirmed it.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** Professor Snape encounters the elder Malfoy... also longer chapters and less author's notes ;)

Thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated :)

**A/N: **I'm aware that the new friendships between the characters were formed rather quickly in this story. Unfortunately, I have no real explanation for that other than when I originally started this piece several few years ago, my writing was less mature and the plot was all jumbled. So please bear with me and just overlook that fact :)

**-=Nix=-**


	11. Strange Encounters

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

**Strange Encounters**

* * *

Severus Snape was not in a good mood. He was late to breakfast and his head was pounding fiercely with the remnants of an unexpected hangover. He hadn't overslept in nearly twenty years, no matter the reason, and he was not pleased. Severus needed order, structure, and dignity, and oversleeping for an hour did not fit into any of those categories.

The professor scowled as he remembered why he even started drinking in the first place last night. Before bed, he knocked on Draco's door to bid him good night and to make sure his godson was adjusting well. When his knock received no answer, he simply barged in and was surprised to see the young Malfoy sharing a stolen bottle of Firewhiskey with the Potter boy. Severus was infuriated, and not wanting to have to report the two teenagers, decided to confiscate the liquor and drink it himself- although looking back that didn't seem like the wisest decision.

Staying true to his snarky character, Severus had decided to vent his frustration by looking for troublemaking students to punish on his way to breakfast. Telling off snotty little ingrates always seemed to cheer him up.

Right on cue, Severus heard a rather childish giggle and a sudden burst of song coming from around the corner. Pausing, he adjusted his robes to make him look particularly menacing and cleared his voice quietly. As he swept around the corner in a cloud of black, however, he was not prepared for the sight that greeted his eyes.

None other than the cause of his headache, Harry Potter, was strolling through the formerly deserted hallway with an unnaturally cheery gait. He swung his arms freely and skipped every other step, and anyone (especially the Potions Master) would have thought that the usually reserved boy had gone mad.

"Potter!" Severus barked, pleased that he had surely caught the boy up to no good. "Exactly _what_, might I ask, has possessed you to behave in this appalling manner?"

Potter continued to stroll down the hallway, alternating between giggling and singing. Completely oblivious to the older man's presence, he probably would not have noticed if the ceiling had just caved in.

"Potter!" the professor repeated, his head starting to pound anew. Severus sighed and wearily pressed a long finger to his temple, hoping to alleviate the dull ache.

The Gryffindor boy stopped for a moment, glanced at Snape curiously, and twirled around in a circle. He regarded the man for a moment longer, and then continued on his merry way, singing at the top of his lungs.

"Potter?" Severus asked, uncharacteristically gently. He was beginning to think something was seriously amiss here, not just teenage mischief as he had originally assumed.

The man still received no verbal response and was still for a moment, baffled. This Potter boy was a head case, and for once Severus was truly stumped. He would get to the bottom of this peculiar situation, foolishness be damned. He sighed and resigned himself to the temporary loss of his pride.

"Harry?" he asked, struggling to keep his tone warm.

"Yes, professor?" Potter answered sweetly, turning his head slightly and batting his eyelashes. He giggled once more and curtsied, but he tripped and landed in a crumpled mass on the cold stone floor. Standing and straightening his robes, he asked, "However may I help you? A cup of tea for the gentleman, perhaps?"

Severus was floored. "Potter, what has gotten into you? I-"

"I love sparrows! But I don't like the way they talk to me." Suddenly Harry's voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned in close to the professor as if he were going to tell him a secret. "Master Kent is mad, they say, and he locks his cookies in the dungeons without any dirt. What horror!" Harry succumbed to a fit of laughter and started crying. "Save the whaaaaales in Wales! What a hoot!"

Something was definitely not right here, Severus thought, his mind racing. What was causing Potter to act so strangely? Had he been poisoned? Cursed? Or-

Suddenly, Severus heard footsteps accompanied by the soft tap of a cane echoing from the far end of the corridor. Acting on pure instinct, he rushed to silence the hysteric boy who was now sobbing, prostrate, on the floor.

As the footsteps grew ominously closer, Severus scooped up the Potter heir and flew behind an ornate tapestry. He didn't know who was approaching, and Potter was in no mood to be seen in his current state.

As the figure came into view, Severus had to suppress the urge to gasp. The man walking confidently toward him was one that he knew all too well, and one that he hadn't hoped to see in a very long time. Severus could feel his temper rise and his blood begin to boil at the mere image of the arrogant man and the atrocities he had committed.

Severus was in no way a saint, and though he would be loath to admit it, he had feelings and standards. This man, however, did not seem to be barred by any moral restrictions, and Severus didn't like it one bit. He was a dirty rotten scoundrel that was so lowly a creature that most believed that he didn't deserve to walk the earth.

The man suddenly stopped at Severus' and Harry's makeshift hiding spot and whirled around. Severus knew his last-minute hiding spot was horrible, especially for such a talented spy as he, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

An elegant gloved hand reached out warily, and it came so close to Severus that he could smell the subtle scent of fresh black leather through the thin fabric of the tapestry. The hand lowered after an agonizing second, and its owner took a step away.

Severus was so relieved that he sighed aloud despite himself, and soon found the tapestry ripped from in front of his face. The movement was so fast Severus hadn't even had the time to blink, and he had no choice now but to step out into the open and confront the horrible man that had taken so much from him in life.

"Lucius," Severus breathed, "what a... surprise... to see you, here in the castle, no less."

"Now, now, Severus. Do you really take me for that much of a fool?" the Malfoy patriarch murmured. "I had thought better of you."

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in _Azkaban_," Severus spat, "where you ought to rot. The Dark Lord does not take kindly to traitors."

"Yes, you would know all about that, now wouldn't you?"

"I am no traitor, and you would do well to remember that. I don't know why you are in this castle, nor do I really care, but I suggest you leave it immediately if you know what's best for you. The Headmaster-"

"I know he is here, Severus, and I would advise you not to threaten my guest while he is in this castle," Dumbledore said, appearing from (seemingly) out of nowhere.

Severus found his mind racing once again, struggling to process the morning's strange events. He was speechless, and his thoughts whirled as he thought of the implications of this. What was the old man up to? And where had he come from? If he had escaped, why was he not with his dark master?

"Severus, I expect you to keep this little encounter between the three of us. As I mentioned before, Mr. Malfoy is simply here for business matters and his presence here is harmless. It wouldn't do for unfounded and unpleasant rumors to fly about the school, eh?"

"No sir," Severus agreed. "And if you two gentleman will excuse me, I myself have some business to attend to. Good day."

"Certainly," the old Headmaster acquiesced, his eyes glinting mischievously. "We were just leaving, weren't we, Lucius?" And with that, the two light-haired wizards departed in a flurry of robes.

As soon as the other men were out of sight, Severus whirled around angrily and pushed aside the tapestry where Potter had hidden, thankfully undiscovered, and dragged the boy roughly to his feet.

"Ask no questions and go straight back to your quarters. Quickly. Speak to no one and stop for nothing. I will deal with you later." he told the boy as he reversed the spells he had cast on him. "And snap out of whatever daydream you're in while you're at it. I am not in the mood to tolerate your foolish antics any longer."

Harry blinked, disoriented, and then did as he was told.

Professor Snape sighed, his nerves beginning to pound a furious beat against his skull, when a voice startled him. He really needed get a hold of himself; he was not accustomed to allowing people to sneak up on him.

"I don't know, Professor, but I think he may have been poisoned. Or drugged, at the very least."

"And what gave you that idea, Miss Granger?"

"Hermione," the girl corrected. Severus scowled, but she continued. "If we are going to be living together, we may as well start to become more familiar with each other. Anyway it really wasn't any of my business, but I was just curious and I couldn't help eavesdropping even though I know it's wrong. But-"

"Whatever," Severus snapped, interrupting. "Just get to the point. Tell me what you know."

"Well..." Hermione said sheepishly, looking at the ground. "Harry and Draco were up all night talking and giggling, and then Harry said he was going to sneak into the kitchens to get some more firewh- er, some kind of a drink because he was thirsty…"

"…And?" Severus asked, trying to be patient and keep the edge out of his voice. He needed answers, and he couldn't get them if he upset the poor girl.

"And then when he came back he said that a strange man had come up to him on the way there. He said he was given a vial of something, that it was some kind of special drink." Hermione took a deep but shaky breath before continuing. "He thought it would be cool to try it even though he didn't know what it was. He was already dru- er, tired, so I guess he wasn't thinking clearly," Hermione finished lamely.

"That moronic little imbecile! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" Severus bellowed, irate. "What was he thinking? Doesn't he know not to take anything from strangers? He's going to get himself killed one day, I swear it! And if he doesn't, I'LL kill him! And," he roared, rounding on Hermione, "why didn't you tell me this sooner, Miss Granger? Do you have ANY idea of what your friend has been up to today? The little brat is insane! I ought to-"

"Shh! He'll hear you! We aren't far from our quarters and you're yelling quite loudly," Hermione whispered fiercely.

"I bloody well hope he DOES hear me! Maybe then it'll get through that thick skull of his and maybe, just MAYBE he'll get some form of sense knocked into him!"

"Professor, please calm down. Someone may hear you. I know-"

"Oh, so now you think you know everything, do you? But you don't even know the half of it. You have no idea of the consequences and repercussions of this, what it means for other people. What if this was just another one of the Dark Lord's ploys to get at Mr. Potter? You have no idea of the scope of things, and you probably don't even care. All you care about are your stupid little friends and your stupid little theories. But you know what? They're awful. They don't even deserve to be called theories because they came from a silly little girl who likes to read. And that silly little girl, just like her silly little ideas, will never amount to anything. Why? Because nobody loves her, not even-"

The slap stung long after the girl had run off, tears shining in her honeyed almond eyes. Severus lifted a finger and touched his cheek gently, wincing slightly. He smiled dryly in spite of himself; the girl had put some impressive power behind that hit. His sudden anger vanished as rapidly as it had stricken him and was replaced with a twisted sense of admiration and hollow regret.

What had he done? For some reason he felt he had to make things right with the girl, if only to make living together more tolerable. It wouldn't do to be constantly on edge in your own living quarters, coupled with the daily stress he endured as a teacher and spy.

Severus sighed, his head pounding with renewed vigor, and tried to regain his composure and characteristic icy demeanor.

But no matter how hard he tried, he could not banish the sorrowful image of Hermione's tear-streaked face from his mind.

. : . : . : .

* * *

**Coming up:** Some much needed discussions

Thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated :)

**-=Nix=-**


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